I learned something recently that I can’t stop thinking about.
I’ve spent years teaching leaders how to sit with people who are struggling. When someone is scared, overwhelmed, grieving, uncertain, or frustrated, most of us feel an urge to help. Unfortunately, what we often mean by “help” is fixing. We offer advice. We share our own stories. We tell them what worked for us. We try to make the discomfort go away.
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned over the years is that people don’t always need solutions. Sometimes they need someone willing to sit beside them long enough to understand what they’re experiencing. Sometimes what helps most is not an answer, but a presence.
Recently, I was talking with a coach named Rachel about an increase in nerve pain I’ve been experiencing. As we talked, I found myself describing what happens whenever I stay in a new place. Almost immediately, I start assessing. Which room is the quietest? Where is the traffic noise? Will people be coming and going? That afternoon, I often lie down and listen carefully to the sounds around me, trying to determine whether I can truly relax there.
As I described all of this, something became clear. I wasn’t trying to rest. I was trying to make sure the world was arranged in a way that would allow me to feel safe.
Then Rachel asked me a question. “Misti, have you ever shared something difficult with someone only to have them immediately respond with their own story or try to fix what you’re feeling?”
- Of course I have.
- Most of us have.
Then she asked another question. “What do you do when someone you care about is struggling?” Without hesitation, I explained how important it is to stay present. To listen. To get curious. To make space for what they’re feeling without rushing them toward a solution. I talked about the importance of helping people feel seen, understood, and less alone in their experience.
Then she smiled. “That’s exactly what you’re not doing for yourself.”
Oof. She was right.
- The moment something difficult showed up inside me, I went straight into fix-it mode. Not feel-it mode. Fix-it mode.
- Instead of asking, “What am I feeling right now?” I was asking, “How do I make this stop?”
- Instead of making space for fear, sadness, grief, disappointment, or uncertainty, I was trying to solve them. Control them. Manage them.
- I was treating my own emotions like problems to be eliminated rather than experiences to be understood.
What struck me most was that I would never treat a friend that way. If someone I loved was hurting, I wouldn’t rush to make them stop feeling what they were feeling. I’d sit with them. I’d listen. I’d get curious. I’d help them feel less alone. I wouldn’t demand that they hurry up and feel better so everyone could move on.
Somehow, it never occurred to me that self-compassion might involve offering that same presence to myself.
Rachel suggested something simple. The next time I feel overwhelmed, afraid, or distressed, put a hand on my heart and ask: “What am I feeling right now?”
- Fear?
- Sadness?
- Grief?
- Disappointment?
And then notice where I feel it in my body. Not to fix it. Not to get rid of it. Just to be with it.
I teach versions of this concept all the time. Yet somehow, hearing it in the context of my own life landed differently. Maybe because I could finally see how 
much energy I was spending trying to manage my emotional experience instead of relating to it.
Looking back, I can see that so much of my energy was going toward managing the environment around me. Finding the quietest room. Listening for noises. Assessing whether I was safe. Trying to arrange the external world in a way that would allow me to relax internally.
What I’m beginning to wonder is whether safety comes less from controlling the world around me and more from learning how to stay with myself when the world feels uncertain.
That’s the practice now. So this week, I’m trying something different. Not fixing… solving… or controlling. Just learning how to stay with myself the same
way I would stay with someone I love. And honestly, that feels a lot more like self-care than anything I’ve been doing lately.
Here’s your greatness,
Misti Burmeister
Misti Burmeister is a leadership communication expert who helps founder-CEOs and senior leaders build trust, strengthen accountability, and create ownership through courageous conversations and human-centered leadership. Her work focuses on helping leaders notice what others miss in human dynamics so they can communicate in ways that help people succeed — not just comply.